At mach speeds, thousands of colors glimmer in the blurs of the race cars. In their airtight vehicles to protect from the lack of atmosphere outside the moonbase, the colors wrapped around the track under the inky void above. Races were silent once they left the bit of track that ran through the sphere of MINOS, all sound of whirring engines and metal crashing together swallowed up by space.
Ons preferred the quiet. Most race cars were outfitted with high-intensity sound systems to blast music and distract the racer from the claustrophobic silence under the stars. But the alien hadn’t gotten used to human music yet with its loud brashness and heart-echoing beats. Her eyes possessed more cones than those of the citizens of MINOS, so the blurs of the cars around her became a kaleidoscope of glowing light, and they were more beautiful when not competing with overwhelming sound.
It was one of the main reasons she started racing; on Captain Atton’s ship, speeding through solar systems didn’t register when all the one could see out the windows was black abyss. It was serene, but it made Ons bored. So when they’d discovered this little human colony, sitting on an icy rock in the middle of a small solar system in the Orion-Cygnus arm, the alien had jumped at the chance of observing these loud children-creatures up close. She was the ship’s engineer, and she was drawn to the colorful clunky technology that filled the moonbase. They’d passed remnants of a fractured planet closer to the solar system’s star during their trip, and Ons had wondered if the the humans maintained the inefficient design aesthetic out of homesickness.
A red and bleeding orange blur swerved towards her left side, and Ons slammed on her brakes to force her opponent to slide past her and crash into the aquamarine blur on her other side. She’d seen them trying to box her in a few miles back, and guessed they’d been biding their time until they got into the dead zone to take her out. Oh, how funny humans were. She arched back around the crash into the lead again. Her jet black car camouflaged under the stars; its adamant gloss slightly reflected the light around it, making it especially hard to see. Another blur was charging towards her, but the dead zone boundary line was approaching fast, and a mile past that lay the finish line. Her car rocked back and forth as she dodged an attack, and Ons gritted her teeth as she kept steady against the seatbelts. She rocketed through, leaving her competitors behind. There was silence when she won, no cheering from the crowds. She could see the headlines now. The Stowaway Strikes Again. Ons grinned, her pointed teeth bared.
She didn’t compete in every race, she didn’t want to steal too much of the humans’ fun. But engineering her own race car had been so easy, with scraps scavenged on the moonbase and extra resources left behind by Shimier-7 before they left for the Andromeda system. Their hidden alien colony was overlooked enough in an abandoned area of the old racetrack, and their cloaking technology let them slide amongst MINOS citizens easily. Ons sped out of the victory pavilion and towards her escape route; she didn’t want to linger and get caught and jeopardize the whole mission. She’d wait til she was safely away before she pulled off her black racing helmet and gloves, a moment she was dreaming about as sweat beaded on her brow. The forgotten garage was in an alley on the outskirts of the Ireland and China sectors, officially owned by some Irishman who had likely lost the deed.
Warm red light from the China Sector washed over the alley, and Ons pulled off her helmet and she looked at the grimy buildings and advertisement screens glowing from the connecting plaza now that her car was stowed away. She could smell cooking fish and steamed dumplings, and her stomach grumbled eagerly. Her light blue-patched fingers fumbled for the cloaking device under the sleeve of her racing jacket. Her skin absorbed some of the red light and reflected rosy pinks. She tapped on the device’s screen a few times to set up the appearance, and watched as her blue skin faded to a human-acceptable beige, before flickering out back to its blue vibrancy. Ons’ brow scrunched, and she fiddled with the glitching device in the dark. She’d told her companion Ioui, one of the crew’s programmers, days ago that the cloaking felt off, but he’d waved her off. And now she was in this predicament. She’d have to find a telecom and give him a piece of her mind. Her skin shifted between different human shades but wouldn’t hang onto anything for long. Curly hair, then straight, short and long, flickered in the corners of her vision, and she wondered for a moment if this sight would be scarier than her usual blues and pinks. She shut off the device to try resetting it, and as her skin awashed with color, she heard the shutter behind her.
Ons froze. Humans are afraid of sudden movement she thought, and whoever this was was probably already scared of her, so she turned as slowly as she could manage. In the red light stood a young woman with short black hair and tanned skin, staring at her wide-eyed with her camera still held close to her face, only just lowered. Ons tried to arrange the friendliest, least-threatening human expression she could think of. Her facial muscles couldn’t mimic it exactly, but hopefully her small smile didn’t look predatory. The woman looked shocked before breaking out in a giant grin. Ons started to raise her hands, a gesture the behaviorist had observed meant “I won’t hurt you”, when the woman took off into China Sector. Ons swore quietly, Ioui was going to kill her. She smacked the cloaking device again before pulling on her helmet and running after the human woman, who had already disappeared in the bustling district swirling off the giant decommissioned space ship at the center. Ons had to get that camera.
Ons preferred the quiet. Most race cars were outfitted with high-intensity sound systems to blast music and distract the racer from the claustrophobic silence under the stars. But the alien hadn’t gotten used to human music yet with its loud brashness and heart-echoing beats. Her eyes possessed more cones than those of the citizens of MINOS, so the blurs of the cars around her became a kaleidoscope of glowing light, and they were more beautiful when not competing with overwhelming sound.
It was one of the main reasons she started racing; on Captain Atton’s ship, speeding through solar systems didn’t register when all the one could see out the windows was black abyss. It was serene, but it made Ons bored. So when they’d discovered this little human colony, sitting on an icy rock in the middle of a small solar system in the Orion-Cygnus arm, the alien had jumped at the chance of observing these loud children-creatures up close. She was the ship’s engineer, and she was drawn to the colorful clunky technology that filled the moonbase. They’d passed remnants of a fractured planet closer to the solar system’s star during their trip, and Ons had wondered if the the humans maintained the inefficient design aesthetic out of homesickness.
A red and bleeding orange blur swerved towards her left side, and Ons slammed on her brakes to force her opponent to slide past her and crash into the aquamarine blur on her other side. She’d seen them trying to box her in a few miles back, and guessed they’d been biding their time until they got into the dead zone to take her out. Oh, how funny humans were. She arched back around the crash into the lead again. Her jet black car camouflaged under the stars; its adamant gloss slightly reflected the light around it, making it especially hard to see. Another blur was charging towards her, but the dead zone boundary line was approaching fast, and a mile past that lay the finish line. Her car rocked back and forth as she dodged an attack, and Ons gritted her teeth as she kept steady against the seatbelts. She rocketed through, leaving her competitors behind. There was silence when she won, no cheering from the crowds. She could see the headlines now. The Stowaway Strikes Again. Ons grinned, her pointed teeth bared.
She didn’t compete in every race, she didn’t want to steal too much of the humans’ fun. But engineering her own race car had been so easy, with scraps scavenged on the moonbase and extra resources left behind by Shimier-7 before they left for the Andromeda system. Their hidden alien colony was overlooked enough in an abandoned area of the old racetrack, and their cloaking technology let them slide amongst MINOS citizens easily. Ons sped out of the victory pavilion and towards her escape route; she didn’t want to linger and get caught and jeopardize the whole mission. She’d wait til she was safely away before she pulled off her black racing helmet and gloves, a moment she was dreaming about as sweat beaded on her brow. The forgotten garage was in an alley on the outskirts of the Ireland and China sectors, officially owned by some Irishman who had likely lost the deed.
Warm red light from the China Sector washed over the alley, and Ons pulled off her helmet and she looked at the grimy buildings and advertisement screens glowing from the connecting plaza now that her car was stowed away. She could smell cooking fish and steamed dumplings, and her stomach grumbled eagerly. Her light blue-patched fingers fumbled for the cloaking device under the sleeve of her racing jacket. Her skin absorbed some of the red light and reflected rosy pinks. She tapped on the device’s screen a few times to set up the appearance, and watched as her blue skin faded to a human-acceptable beige, before flickering out back to its blue vibrancy. Ons’ brow scrunched, and she fiddled with the glitching device in the dark. She’d told her companion Ioui, one of the crew’s programmers, days ago that the cloaking felt off, but he’d waved her off. And now she was in this predicament. She’d have to find a telecom and give him a piece of her mind. Her skin shifted between different human shades but wouldn’t hang onto anything for long. Curly hair, then straight, short and long, flickered in the corners of her vision, and she wondered for a moment if this sight would be scarier than her usual blues and pinks. She shut off the device to try resetting it, and as her skin awashed with color, she heard the shutter behind her.
Ons froze. Humans are afraid of sudden movement she thought, and whoever this was was probably already scared of her, so she turned as slowly as she could manage. In the red light stood a young woman with short black hair and tanned skin, staring at her wide-eyed with her camera still held close to her face, only just lowered. Ons tried to arrange the friendliest, least-threatening human expression she could think of. Her facial muscles couldn’t mimic it exactly, but hopefully her small smile didn’t look predatory. The woman looked shocked before breaking out in a giant grin. Ons started to raise her hands, a gesture the behaviorist had observed meant “I won’t hurt you”, when the woman took off into China Sector. Ons swore quietly, Ioui was going to kill her. She smacked the cloaking device again before pulling on her helmet and running after the human woman, who had already disappeared in the bustling district swirling off the giant decommissioned space ship at the center. Ons had to get that camera.